Integration
by Queen Hotaru
Summary: Sequel to Extrapolation Chloe O'Brian, field agent, has been missing for nearly two years. Her death must bring an end to her story... right?
1. Prologue

Integration

Prologue

by Abby

**- Four Months Ago -**

It didn't seem to matter that he didn't want to be here. It didn't seem to matter that he'd railed against it. It didn't matter because here he was, in a tuxedo... No, he was in a tuxedo _in a room of dignitaries_. It felt very James Bond, very surreal... This hadn't been what he'd signed up for, not here, not in Boston. And yet here he was.

He was trying to fit in, doing his best _not_ to draw attention to himself - still unsure why he'd been chosen for this assignment. There were so many other agents who could have done this better...

"Are we certain that he's going to be here tonight?"

He looked around him and didn't see anyone familiar.

"According to the intel."

He knew that the security camera feed was being monitored by the staff back at the hub.

"Well it's been wrong before," he sighed. Normally in a situation like this he would have had his cellular phone held to his ear, so he didn't look like he was talking to himself, but he didn't have that option at the moment... he'd only lowered it from his ear several moments before. To repeat the action might have drawn undue attention to himself...

"Just focus," the voice came through his earpiece. Thankfully the earpiece was small, thankfully... "Keep your eyes open for anything unusual."

Saying something like that was telling a person to breathe. There was no other course of action! But at this point it had been hours, and there had _still_ been nothing. He'd half hoped that Buchanan would call it off by now. When he'd voiced this an hour before... needless to say the response was anything but affirmation.

The fact that he'd asked it seemed to frustrate the poeople on the other side of the comm line. Even now he could hear their comments and it brought a small smile to his face.

"Hey, I know that look," the voice said, Liana Schwartz, shaking her head.

"How's he doing?"

"Complaining."

"I'm still here, you know," he said rolling his eyes.

There was silence after that.

At the hub of CTU LA, the two technicians were shaking their heads. Someone else should have been chosen for this assignment... Even if Liana had to admit that he looked pretty good in a tux.

Watching the monitors was rather tedious. It wasn't a high-tension situation at this moment, and either way they needed someone to watch the screen. It was important. The facial recognition software they used, the wonder of biometrics, wasn't one hundred percent.

Liana's eyes were focused on the screen when someone at the party bumped into their man on the floor. For a split second, a face was on the screen in front of them... and the face caused the person looking over Liana's shoulder to widen his eyes...

That face... for a split second he was sure that he saw it... saw her? He blinked a few times adjusting his glasses, but as soon as he'd batted an eye the face was gone as if it was never there... But that made no sense. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself speaking into the microphone, "Everything alright?"

"Not sure what you mean," the field agent seemed confused by the question. "Everything's fine." The agent shook his head and ignored the question... until he tried to adjust his jacket. A piece of paper fell out of his pocket... one that he hadn't put there himself.

_Rookie,_

_Take out your earpiece and meet me in the hall. Tell no one._

If finding a piece of paper scrawled in what looked like a Sharpie marker wasn't odd, in a situation a piece of paper could mean death... It occurred to him how strange it seemed, a piece of paper leading to someone's death... very Mission Impossible it was. 'This piece of paper will self-distruct in five seconds,' he thought with a roll of his eyes.

He was a field agent. The first rule was to report any and everything suspicous. And that would have meant this, but for one thing... the note said 'Rookie'. Only one person called him that... And that fact gave him pause.

It could mean something else, but the handwriting... It was against his better judgement, but he looked around, not seeing anyone...well what were the odds that the person was actually going to stick around? If it was who he thought it was it wouldn't be long. Against his better judgement he started walking towards the hallway, taking his earpiece out casually so no one watching would think anything was wrong... But something was.

He was armed, so if worse came to worse he wasn't completely in trouble, but this was risky...

He was ready for this... he thought he was anyway, but as soon as he was far enough into the hallway something grabbed him.

Instantly he grabbed for the hand until he heard a familiar voice.

"What are you doing here, Marcus?"

And there it was... in that one moment, there was a voice that he hadn't heard in 18 months. He'd known that it had to be her... she was the only one who'd called him that. Well not the _only_ one, but the last one. And he knew that it had to be her...

"I could ask you the same thing," he said after a moment. He'd had to regain his composure. A blast from the past like this... it would have thrown anyone off of their game. "You're missing you know."

"I'm aware of that," she said coldly. She was very to the point tonight... seeing him out on the floor had taken her by surprise. She was all business. "Answer the question, Collier, what are you doing here?"

"CTU got a tip that a suspect is supposed to be here tonight."

"Gabrielli?"

The name was the one and he just nodded. This was what she'd been hoping wasn't the case... She brought her hand up to her temple, forgetting that she had an earpiece in... the voice in her ear was trying to get her attention, asking what the problem was... "Not now Raines." She snapped, taking Marcus by surprise.

She returned her attention to him, a sharp look in her eyes.

"Chl-"

"Division sent me," she said curtly. "CTU _LA_ was _not_ supposed to be here." She was not happy.

"Division? But we-"

"They knew where I was." She looked over his shoulder...she saw something. Someone was coming towards them... someone she knew. Panicking for a moment, she grabbed the fabric of his coat and pulled him to her, kissing him... Internally she shook her head. How is it it _always_ led to this?

Once the person was gone she pushed him away with a frown. "That was him," she said quietly looking at the back of the man who had just passed them.

Marcus had been startled by her action then reverse action... anyone looking at him could tell that. "Well if that's the guy, how do we handle this?" he asked. "I have my team here in place and at the hub, if I don't report in soon then they'll be concerned and probably order an immediate 46-E."

He knew his code, that much was evident. What was to be done... Raines was supposed to be _keeping_ any other CTU units from being sat this... the operatioon was supposed to go down without any outside involvement, but now... "Looks like that's not going to be an option," she muttered to herself.

"Are you listening to me, O'Brian?" Marcus wasn't expecting the hand that shot up to cover his mouth.

"Don't say my name!"

He didn't understand this one. But he didn't entirely care at the moment... There more important things.

"So what's the plan?" he asked.

"The plan," she said sharply. "is you stay out of my way." She meant it. "And you don't tell a _soul_ that you saw me. Division has this under control."

He'd never been able to overcome the intimidation of _that_ look... it was damn scary. But the question was, if Division had this, why had he been sent.

Chloe Agatha O'Brian had walked off before he could stopped her... ran off was more like it. Her dress was flying behind her. It was only then that he noted somewhere at the back of his mind that he'd never seen his former partner in a dress before, but he'd cleared his head immediately. But before he could get to her, she was gone...

b - Two Months Ago - /b 

Death was a constant. He was a shadow that seemed to take pleasure in taunting her. In bed, he brought the past to her. During the day he'd stand behind her, watching for his next victim...even now.

The Counter Terrorism Unit was like a whirlpool. As hard as you tried to get away, it always seemed to suck you back in. She'd gotten lucky. The one time she'd been forced to come out of hiding, he'd been away, visiting his daughter out in Washington DC.

She'd walked through the hallways, her old stomping grounds, and heads had turned. Looks on the faces of her co-workers telling the one thing on their minds: what was she doing here?

There was only one reason that she was here, and that was because she had been called. It was something that she really and truly did not have time for. She was already in danger. And the last time she was here she had been the cause of danger.

She walked down the corridor and made her way to his office, the eyes of her former co-workers wide and their jaws dropped.

'So much for not letting anyone see me,' she sighed. She was thinking that when she got back she was going to kill her handler... It didn't matter what the boss of Division, Harry Dentoni sa-

Her thoughts got cut off abruptly as she opened the door to Bill Buchanan's office and she was assaulted by a redhead.

"Aunt Chlo!"

She hadn't changed a bit. Dressed in a business suit with pearl teardrop earrings hanging from her ears, she looked wonderful...

She hadn't been called that in too long... the sound of the name itself made her take a breath...one that was instantly crushed out of her by the hug. Bringing her arms around the girl... no the young woman who she had been so close with, only for a moment did she even wonder what she was doing here.

"It's good to see you, Maggs," she said looking at the girl with a small sad smile.

The girl's eyes flashed for a moment with a child-like spark at being called the nickname by the favorite 'relative' she now held.

Bill Buchanan watched this interaction between his aide and his former field agent with a small smile on his lips. In truth, the scene played out exactly as he thought it would, as the two women made small talk for several minutes, covering everything from the Kessler family and how they were doing to why Margaret was here... Bill had hired her as a personal assistant. She was a go-for for the hub and occationally helped out with data analysis... she acted not only as Bill's PA, but Edgar had adopted her as a younger sibling and, in addition to her few college courses, as she was "interning" this year, he was teaching her everything he knew. She had a bright future here at CTU... Chloe was sure to point out that she would be "Safe, behind a terminal."

Bill finally took a step up from the table and put a hand on each of their shoulders. Maggie had known he was here, but the older former-field agent hadn't and was rather surprised to see the face of the man who was a second father to her.

"Welcome back, Chloe," he said gently with a smile.

She just nodded. She felt at home here, as much as she hated CTU, being here felt normal... The thought left her head as soon as it had arrived. Things were different now. And it could never go back...

Bill indicated the chairs around the table and motioned for Maggie to draw the blinds. They didn't need anyone else to see her... Rumors flew around here quicker than information did. Rather sad for an organization that lived and died on information.

All three persons seated, the table knew that this had to be done quickly... Forces were working against the now dark-haired woman at the center of this meeting. Time was short, the sooner that she was out of this place and back to her life, back to the District of Columbia, the better it would be...

As soon as they were seated, it was all business. Chloe sat back in her chair, hands folded neatly in front of her, her eyes going colder. It bothered Maggie a bit, but this wasn't her aunt anymore, this was buisness mode-Chloe.

"You called this meeting, Bill," Chloe said flatly. "So talk. What does CTU LA want with me this time?" There was a tinge of ironic humor to her tone, as if she knew that this was completely absurd.

Bill took some papers that Maggie handed to him and pushed them across the table.

"I know that you've seen these before, Chloe. We came across the information during the course of an operation." He glanced at his assistant. It had been Maggie who had found it, and had in turn showed them to Edgar before the two had decided it was best to call Bill directly. "We've kept them from anyone else," he assured her. In her head, Chloe knew he meant Jack specifically. "Now we have to decide what the best course of action is..."

b - October 13 - /b 

He hadn't heard from her in some time. He tried not to let it bother him, but sometimes it was worse than others.

Today he'd been late. There had been an accident. Car crash and fire on 19th and 1st. He'd been late to work, but Bill had had other things on his mind at the time. He'd seemed very distracted this morning. Maggie Kessler was following him around like a hawk. Even Gerry Stinemore who normally made scaving comments about how she was like a puppy following Bill around was silent and solomn as they passed his work station.

Jack realized that they were coming towards his station, and everyone was quiet, watching what was going to happen... It was like they knew something that he didn't. And he didn't like that one bit.

Bill had a serious but understanding look on his face, Maggie looked like she'd been crying but had washed her face and pulled herself together. She was holding a folder in her hands in a deathgrip.

"Jack," Bill's voice was quiet, "we need to talk." He sighed and put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Jack," Bill continued. "There's been an accident..."

Jack was liking this now _less_ than before. Instantly a picture of his daughter's face flashed in his head - until he saw the folder Maggie was holding... Clipped to it was a picture of Chloe O'Brian.


	2. Chapter 1

Integration

Chapter1

by Abby

There were certain things that a person simply can't prepare themselves for. No matter what they do, no matter how hard they try, no amount of preparation can check the emotions or the rage that course through them.

It was raining... drizzling as the dark box made its way down into the ground.

He didn't want to believe this was real, but here it was playing out in front of him. Her parents from Arizona. Her twin sister and her husband from England. Bill, Karen, Marcus, Tony, Michelle and the baby (Dinah), Edgar, Kim, Chloe's handler, the Kessler women, Chase and seven-year-old Angela... the little girl had taken her teddy bear and placed it atop the casket before it was lowered.

Angela was old enough to understand now. Her mama was now with her 'uncle' Ross Kessler in a better place, she's been told. She understood that, but she wanted her mama... Her 'Aunt' Melanie looked just like Mama C, but it wasn't her, and looking at her mother-figure's sister just caused her to cry more.

Maggie held the shoulders of her younger sisters next to her mother, standing behind the girls, next to Chase and Angela...

It was a small service. Her parents and sister had said that would have been what she wanted. There wasn't a dry eye among them... how did you even fathom a parent seeing their child burried before her elders?

Jack didn't want to be here. It made it too real. He'd seen the crash. He'd seen the car fire. And he'd done nothing to help! While he drove, she'd died.

Bill had told him that, given Jack's timeline, there was nothing that Jack could have done. She'd already been pronounced at the scene well before he'd passed...

His attempt to convey his condolences to Chloe's sister Melanie Timmons had resulted in a sharp slap across his face and her storming off, breaking down once again, telling him that he had no idea how she felt and he never could. Her husband, Mark, had followed his wife away from the burial plot, where she cried into his arms.

The group eventually began breaking up and Kimberly tried to pull her father away from the graveside. Allowing himself to be led away, he didn't leave the cemetary, instead walking a bit.

There were some things that he would give almost anything for... His daughter, his friends, and Chloe. Right now he'd give almost anything to see her again and just hold her.

His feet had brought him to the same spot he'd sat almost two years ago: Ross Kessler's grave. But his eyes must have been playing tricks on him...

Standing there was a woman with dark hair. She was slender, shorter than him and wore sunglasses, even though he couldn't see her face. There was a distinct smell of jasmine in the air... He blinked a few times, but opening his eyes up the last time, the woman was gone and in her place there was a bouquet of fresh yellow roses.

He eyed the flowers as he sat on the bench opposite the grave. He'd come here several times in the past several months. He hadn't known the man well, but something drew him to this spot... rather unusual, but maybe it was that he felt he had someone to answer to...

"I'm sorry, Ross." he said to no one in particular. "There was nothing I could do..."

The woman waited for the attendees to depart before coming out of her hiding place and removing her sunglasses.

"Melanie, did you have to hit him?" she asked, ignoring the contingent of people remaining around the plot.

"You said act natural," Melanie Timmons told her sister with a nonchallant shrug. "And to tell you the truth, it felt good."

She shook her head at her sister's aggressive nature. In truth she was being a hypocrite. She herself had the same thing. Perhaps it was a twin thing... She made sure not to make any mention to the fact that he'd almost seen her only several minutes before...

Looking from her sister to her parents, she hugged her mother and father, knowing this would be the last time she saw them for some time.

Everyone understood.

Those still in attendance, Bill Buchanan, Maggie Kessler, her handler, her parents, sister and brother-in-law, and little Angela, who was "staying for a few more minutes with Grandpa Bill to say goodbye" knew that this was serious. The seven-year-old had been told that she couldn't tell a soul or her mama might get hurt... growing up around super-spies, the little girl understood how information could be dangerous. She hated to keep things from her daddy, but Grandpa Bill had told her that it was okay for this once, because it was helping Mama C.

"I'll miss you baby girl."

Angela clung to her mama, not wanting to let her go. Not let her walk away again. The only thing that she took solice in was the fact that she knew her Mama C would _always_ come back for her... for her and her daddy and her Uncle Jack... She'd said it herself, Mama C had, so it had to be true. Mama C didn't lie. Not to her...

The dar finally let the little girl go and looked at the group sadly with a small nod before hugging or kissing each of them and then putting back on her sunglasses as well as a hat...

And she was dead...


	3. Chapter 2

Integration

Chapter 2

by Abby

She was dreaming of a man lifting her up and a woman smiling as she laughed. The same dream she'd had for years. It was one of the most pleasant times of the day. Or night, depending on how you wanted to look at it. It was an interesting time.

She normally didn't remember her dreams...except for these. It had caused her to come to a conclusion some time ago that these weren't dreams, they were memories - memories of her parents.

She was about to see the man's face when suddenly a voice cut through the laughter.

"Alena, время проснуться." (_Alena, time to awake._)

She tried to ignore the voice, concentrating on the laughter.

"Зазноба, вы имеете школу." (_Sweetheart, you have school._)

She felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake. The girl looked up and glared at the grey-haired man.

"Grandfather..."

"No. You need get up," her grandfather spoke well but in slightly broken English. It had always been this way. "School today."

Alena Fedorova, or Lena Fredrick, looked at her grandfather, Nikolas with a frown. She was not a morning person and hated getting up early. Unfortunately it was the only way she could get to class on time.

"I don't want to go," she said pouting before giving a fake cough. "I-I'm not feeling well."

She grabbed the sheets and pulled them back up over her head, but her grandfather wasn't buying it.

"Отсутствие ребенка. Вы должны поднять." he said firmly looking at her, pulling the sheet down to her shoulders so he could see her face. "Breakfast on table. Move little one." (_No child. You must rise._)

She looked back at her grandfather as he walked out of the room. The old man's limp made him move a bit slower than people her age.

She grumbled a profanity under her breath, one very much inappropriate for one her age. It was lucky for her the man didn't hear it... she would have gotten a severe punishment for it..

The sunlight drifted in through the curtains on her window. Every morning it was the same thing. The sun would stream in waking her up half an hour too early, and by the time she finally found herself dreaming again, she'd find herself rudely jarred by the sounds of her ever loud and ever annoying alarm clock. On a daily basis she swore to herself that the clock sounded like the music from _Psycho_, but no one else seemed interested in that factoid.

There was something odd in this situation. Not only the fact that she was living i here /i of all places... but that it seemed to be right. Something about it was so normal that she was almost bored out of her mind. That fact in itself made her wonder exactly what had happened to her in these past years. How she had become this way...

Looking around she saw that he wasn't in bed.

Shaking her head, she swung her legs over the side of the mattress, randomly hitting the top of her alarm clock. Without meaning to, she turned the radio on, causing her to jump.

She took a moment to calm down, before getting into a shower, hoping that the water would help sooth her back to a normal state. The successful completion of the task led to her getting ready for the day and her final emergence from her bedroom.

He hadn't been there when she'd woken up, thus she'd have to find him.

"Matthew?"

There was no answer.

She shook her head, pulling her hair back with a clip. She didn't have time for his games this morning.

"Matt, this isn't funny. I have to go."

Still nothing. She knew he was here though. She'd heard him moving around in the kitchen earlier. But she was afraid that she was going to be late...she didn't have time for this.

"Fine, Matthew, you're on your own for breakfast." Of course she always left something for him if she was leaving.

She loved him. She really did, but at times she wondered if it was worth it.

She picked up her bag and the supplies needed for the day, calling, "I'm leaving!" behind her, as she shook her head.

She then saw him stick his head around the doorway leading to the dining room... she could have sworn he had a twinkle in his eyes.

As she closed the door and locked it she rolled her eyes, mumbling to herself.

"...stupid cat."

The drive from 421 Willan Place to the school where she worked had been peaceful enough. Her coffee cup didn't spill. The coffee inside it hadn't gotten all of her car, and she hadn't had to curse whatever deity was causing this to happen to her... no that was last week.

If there was one thing that she wished for, it was that she could go back and do it all over again. Well, maybe not _all_ of it. Her childhood could stay...and her teen years, but college would be different.

How she had gone from political science to that she still couldn't quite grasp, but it had happened, and now she was here.

It didn't seem right.

Death was a constant. He was a shadow that seemed to take pleasure in taunting her. In bed, he brought the past to her. During the day he'd stand behind her, watching for his next victim...even now.

Valencia was a nice place...well nice enough. It was still a suburb of LA. Some days she cursed herself for not getting farther away. She could have gone anywhere: New York. Paris. Hell, she could have even gone back to Washington. In truth she'd wanted to go home...back to Arizona or Henderson, Nevada. She'd thought maybe she'd buy the house she grew up in (which was on the market, she'd checked) and move back in. But in the end she'd found herself without a choice...

_"Who is going to look for you back where you were supposed to have willingly lived?" Audrey asked._

_She looked at her handler for a moment blankly. "Raines, that is the _stupidest_, most_ idiotic_ idea I think I've ever heard from you."_

_Audrey couldn't help but shake her head at her friend... well she liked to think that this woman was her friend. Some days she wasn't so certain. There was a constant hostility between them, one that she didn't always understand but it was there..._

_"I'm going to assume that that means you love the idea, Chloe." she said rolling her eyes._

_"_Why?_" Chloe asked looking at her handler questioningly._

_Audrey Raines just shrugged, as if nothing was wrong. "The department already found you a place out there."_

_Chloe's eyes widened as she watched her handler walk away! "AUDREY! You come back here!" she yelled after the woman, running after her down the hall._

She stepped out of her vehicle with a sigh. Taking her mug with her, and balancing it on the hood of her car momentarily, she straightened her skirt.

Life went on... didn't it? That thought stopped her cold. She was always thinking about the past and the future simultaneously. It wasn't good for her psyche, she was told, but then again when had her psyche ever been stable... But the kids brought her peace. They surrounded her with the innocence that she'd long ago become a stranger to...

Taking her coffee mug from atop her car, she closed the door and put the alarm on. As she approached the main door to the building she let her mind wander.

She had, in move uncharacteristic of Chloe Agatha O'Brian _and_ her new identity, forgotten to assign the pages for her class to read the previous Friday. In truth, she just wanted to have a peaceful weekend herself.

She'd spent time with a colleague, and as much as she had wanted to relax, had wound up grading papers. The very last thing she wanted to do, but her students would be happy. The 7th graders had been eager to get their projects back. They'd been bugging her about it all last week.

"Ms. Burger, are they done yet?"

"Ms. Burger, you promised."

Ms. Burger, Ms. Burger, Ms. Burger... sometimes she convinced herself that that was her name... and as her handler kept reminding her, for now and until she was told otherwise, it i was /i her name...

She walked down the hallways of the school and made her way to room 306. Opening the door, just as the bell ending homeroom sounded, she found her students awaiting her. It was time for class.

"Good morning everyone. I do hope you all had a good weekend," she said placing her mug on her desk and turning to the class and leaning on the desk behind her as she rifled through her papers. "I have some news that I'm certain will make everyone very happy," she smiled, looking around the room at her students.

They were eager, the children were, and their faces lit up as she held the stack of projects in front of her and just shot them look. The projects were ready.


End file.
